


Give The Story A Happy Ending

by rory_the_dragon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), The Brothers Grimm (2005)
Genre: Henry is a Grimm, M/M, The Brothers Grimm AU from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1377832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rory_the_dragon/pseuds/rory_the_dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Henry Grimm goes to Marbaden with his brothers, Will and Jake, to solve the mystery of the missing girls. He discovers supernatural creatures along the way, some more friendly than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give The Story A Happy Ending

**Author's Note:**

> This fic largely takes place outside of the film's plot but references it a whole lot so probably best to have at least seen/read the synopsis of The Brothers Grimm film. It's a great film, either way.
> 
> Easily the most indulgent fic I have ever written.
> 
> All Caitlin's fault.

 

Henry’s lost.

Of course. Because it’s been that kind of week. Not enough that they were yanked out of the tavern beds by their ankles and dragged across the floor, not enough that they’ve been threatened with execution, shoved into small cages, forced to sell a con to a town of jumpy and far too gun-happy people, not enough that they’re tracking down a thief of young girls that Henry suspects is actually,  _finally_ , the Real Deal. No. Henry had to lose the path, lose Will and Jake and their terrifying tracker, Angelika.

Henry had to get lost.

Right.

It’s hardly  _his_  fault that the forest seems almost alive, moving around them, always out of the corner of his eye. He can’t imagine that line of excuse working well with Will, though.

He slides out of his saddle, boots squelching in the mud, and searches for the pistol in his napsack. Will might not believe in the “superstitious nonsense” that the town folk do, but Henry always has. Ever since he was a boy, read the fairytales at their mother’s knee. He knows, of course, that they’re conmen, even if he hates it, knows that none of the places they’ve ever been to have ever been  _truly_  haunted. That’s why Jake picks them. Easier to defeat something that isn’t there.

Doesn’t mean that the ghost and witches and ghouls he writes about in his journal aren’t  _real_ , though. Doesn’t mean that the tales in Henry’s book are lies.

There’s a cracking noise behind him, just as he gets his hand around the pistol, and he whirls, gun cocked and rising on instinct.

He’s glad he didn’t pull the trigger, when he spots the source of the noise. Against one of the trees up the hill lining the path, looking down at Henry with calculating and unimpressed blue eyes, is a boy. He looks to be a little older than Henry himself, blonde hair falling across his face in a windblown sweep, like he’s been running, though Henry didn’t hear footfalls.

"What- What are you doing here?" He asks, suddenly wishing for Will, or at the very least Jake. He tries to shake it off. He’s a man grown now. Eighteen. He can handle a boy in the forest.

The boy looks at him for a long moment, before he moves. His feet are bare, Henry notices as he steps gracefully down the incline towards him, and there’s a ferocity in the sinew and muscle, powerful. Like he’s ready to run at any second. It reminds Henry of a predator.

"I live here," The boy says, and his voice is soft, like the whisper of a breeze.

"I’m-"

"Henry Grimm," The boy says before he can finish, nodding absently even as he steps closer, eyes still set on Henry. Henry feels stripped to the bone under them, and when did he lower his gun? "Your brother’s been saying it loud enough. Enough to make sure that that witch knows you’re coming."

"Witch?" The last remaining dregs of fear in Henry’s stomach disappear in his excitement. "An actual witch?"

The boy cock an eyebrow, finally coming to a halt just a few steps from Henry. Behind him, his horse knickers, shifts uneasily. Henry places a hand on her neck, soothing her.

When he speaks again, the boy sounds amused. “Yes, an actual witch. Isn’t that what you  _do_? Hunt  _actual_  witches?”

"Are you from the town?" Henry asks instead of answering, certain he isn’t because he would have remembered this boy, he’s sure, with his intense stare and pink lips.

"I already told you," The boy’s smiling, and it feels like he’s laughing at Henry. "I live here."

"Here, in the forest?"

The boy inclines his head. He’s dressed in animal hides, Henry’s just noticing, furs and skins. That, coupled with the bare feet and the fact that he has what appears to be  _feathers_  coiled in the strands of his hair, is enough to make Henry believe it.

"In the forest?" He still has to ask, unease setting in around his heart. "Where ten little girls have gone missing?"

"I didn’t take them," The boy says, bored. "You’re not the first to accuse it of me and mine."

"You and yours?"

This earns him a small smile, less like he’s being laughed at, more fond. Amused. “You have a lot of questions, Henry Grimm.”

"You don’t have many answers."

The boy frowns. “I’ve answered all of your questions. And I’ll answer your last one. Me and mine are my family. You don’t think I live here  _alone,_  do you? There’s witches about.” The last sentence is broken on a smirk that Henry has to try really hard not to return it’s so infectious.

"Have you seen her?" Henry asks instead. "The witch?"

The boy shakes his head. “She hasn’t come near my family, or my sisters. It’s part of why there’s so much suspicion on my family, why they think we’re helping her, and why I-” He cuts himself off, but Henry thinks he hears the rest of it anyway.

"Why you’re following a hunting party through the woods. Trying to help."

"Help?" The boy scoffs, but it’s not very believable. "I want the suspicion off my family. We can survive alone, in the forest, but we still need to trade. The town won’t talk to us while they think we have something to do with their missing daughters."

"You followed the wrong brother," Henry tells him, finally tucking his pistol away. Just into his waistband. Close to hand.

"I could have followed the rest, I know the forests better than even Angelika." The boy tells him, waving a hand. "But I saw you fall behind. Thought I’d help you out."

“ _Why?_ ”

The boy shrugs. “Because you’re cute.” He produces an apple from seemingly no where, bites into it as Henry stammers. “They went that way, by the way.” He grins.

Henry follows the finger he’s pointing, finds the break in the trees. “Why should I believe you?” He asks, turning back to him.

"You don’t have to," The boy acknowledges, tossing the apple to Henry. "But if you don’t want to ride around in circles, I would. Over that crest and follow the path. Your brothers are at the tower."

"Tower?"

There’s a  _tower_  in this forest?

"Wait," He says, quickly, because the boy is moving away, leaving, and Henry really doesn’t want that all of a sudden. "You’re not coming?"

The boy looks back at him, grins with teeth, and it shivers deliciously down Henry’s spine. ”You have your hunting party, I have mine.”

He all but  _leaps_  up the hill again, powerful long legs pulling him up, and if Henry’s mouth goes a little dry, there’s no one around to notice. “What’s your name?” He calls, impulse, because he suddenly can’t not know.

At the top of the hill, the boy stops, looks over his shoulder, and it’s not a grin anymore. It’s soft, a smile. “Felix,” He says, and with a flick of his hood over his hair, and a few snapping branches, he’s gone.

 

***

 

Henry’s hands are shaking.

They’re shaking so hard that he can’t even tighten the straps of the saddle, can’t buckle it tight enough, he can’t, he can’t, he  _can’t!_

He makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat that’s more a sob than anything else, throws the saddle off the horses back and shouts wordlessly at it. He’s shaking hard enough that his visions blurs, and he falls to the ground, arms wrapped around himself.

He needs to get himself under control, needs to stop shaking. He needs to go after his brothers, save them, like they’ve always saved him.

Only

Only tonight Henry saw a little girl swallowed by a horse, saw the outline of her hands clawing at the beast from the inside, followed her into the forest. Tonight, Henry rode into a forest that fought back, that moved around them, tripped them from their horses and sought to crush them with roots. Tonight, Henry saw the mangled corpse of one of the French soldier’s fall from the trees, spat out again, and narrowly escaped the same fate.

Henry lived through the forest, only to watch his brothers and Angelika hauled away by Cavaldi, chained and bound, taken back to Delatombe. His brothers are going to die, or worse, and Henry can’t save them for shaking.

He can’t stop  _shaking_.

Arms tighten around him from behind, hands gently pulling his grip off of himself while still clamping his arms to his side, so he can’t move, and he panics, Cavaldi come back for him, screams and kicks until there’s a voice in his ear, soothing and quiet.

"Henry.  _Henry!_  Henry, it’s okay.”

He recognises the voice instantly. The boy from the forest, Felix.

He doesn’t stop fighting, shouting, clawing to be free because no one _, no one_ , can live in those forests. Nothing  _human_  can, not like Felix claims.

He’s saying it out loud, babbling, tear-messed and shaky, voice hoarse from screaming, but Felix doesn’t let go, face still presses against Henry’s ear, and his voice is pleading.

"Henry, Henry, relax.  _Please_. You’re safe, I promise.”

And Henry

breaks.

Sobs and stops fighting. He can’t fight anymore. He’s terrified, adrenaline still coursing through him, but it’s jittery and exhausting, and he’s  _still shaking_. His brothers are going to die because he couldn’t save them, still the kid they’ve spent their whole lives looking after.

Felix’s voice is still soft, curling around his ear with the warm puff of his breath, muttering platitudes into his hair. He’s still holding onto him, even as Henry’s stopped fighting, an embrace, rocking Henry back and forth slightly as he tries to get his breathing back under control.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, voice still weak, breaking halfway through, and he sniffs away some of the tears. He doesn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed.

"Is that your favourite question?" Felix asks, clearly trying to cajole a smile out of him. It doesn’t work. "I heard the ruckus in the forest. Got there too late to help, but I saw…I saw people being taken away. I was worried you might be one of them."

"Why?" Henry’s voice pulls out the question, confusion creasing his forehead. "You don’t know me."

"No, I don’t," Felix agrees mildly, and Henry feels him press his nose into his hair. It’s comforting, in a strange way, having someone pressed so close to him. More himself than he is. "And yet."

"My brothers are dead," He says, into the quiet of the stables, over the knickering of the horses, the creaking of the wood, and suddenly the whole place feels like a tomb. "Dead, or dying, or tortured. The General’s got them now."

"General?" There’s a pause, and Henry can almost hear it click in Felix’s head. That they’re not here to help the town at all. They’re here to save their own skins, trapped under the General’s thumb. He waits for Felix to pull away, leave, then, "Your brothers are more than a match for a Frenchman. They’ll be fine."

Henry gasps a sigh of relief that might be more a hysterical laugh than anything else, and he doesn’t know whether it’s for what Felix is saying, or the fact that he’s not leaving. He laughs again. “Will never met a fight he couldn’t charm his way out of,” He says, hiccuping slightly. “Wouldn’t want to mess up his pretty face.”

"No offence to your brother," Felix says, finally letting Henry’s hands go. Henry feels cold again. "But his isn’t the face I’m worried about. Are you okay?"

Honestly? No. Henry’s always believed, but there’s a difference between believing and  _seeing_. And tonight Henry saw the forest move around him, saw trees trying to kill him. He stands up on unsteady legs, managed to hold himself up, and turns to find Felix already standing.

"The forest-"

"She gets like that," Felix agrees. "Never used to, not before the witch. Apparently. That’s before my time. The forest has always been dangerous to people who want to hurt the witch. You have to be dangerous to survive it."

"How do you-" He starts, doesn’t quite get the words out. Tries again. "How do you  _live_  in there?”

Felix’s mouth forms a tight line. His forehead creases. “It’s our home. It’s been our home for so many generations even we’ve lost track.”

"No," Henry shakes his head, stepping forward. Felix doesn’t step back. "You said you have to be dangerous to survive it. Are you…Are you  _dangerous_ , Felix?”

Felix’s eyes shutter.

"Felix, are you human?"

Felix scoffs. “I’m a  _person_ , Henry, same as you.”

He’s  _lying_. _  
_

"Don’t  _do_  that!” Henry shouts, and his hands fist in Felix’s shirt. It’s coarse, but well-worn, soft. “Don’t do that. Not tonight. Not after I just watched a horse  _eat_  a girl, a girl I  _met_ , not after I’ve watched the fucking  _trees_  move. Don’t hide in semantics.  _Tell me_.”

Felix’s jaw is tight, his eyes darting. Looking for an escape route.

"Felix.  _Please_.” Henry’s voice is quiet, pleading, and some of the tension uncoils from Felix’s muscles, shoulders slumping. He closes his eyes, and sighs.

"I’m not dangerous," Is what he says first, and Henry’s fingers unfurl from his shirt as he speaks. His voice is low, honest. "Not to you, anyway. But I’m not human, either."

Henry’s hands start to shake again.

"It’s not-" Felix says quickly, moving forward as Henry steps back in confusion, or maybe horror. Definitely shock at having his suspicions confirmed, at the velvet-voiced boy with bare feet and blue eyes who’d been appearing in his dream before this  _awful_ night started being something other than  _human_. ”I’m not like  _her_. I’m not magic. I don’t steal children, none of my family do. We’re just…different.”

"Different how?" Henry asks, cautious, half expecting Felix to grow  _wings_. It’d be par for the course after this fiasco of a night.

Dawn is breaking through the slats of the stable walls, and Henry feels so tired in that moment.

"We’re wolves."

Felix says it so matter-of-factly, simply, and that’s what cinches it for Henry, convinces him that Felix isn’t lying. Felix announces that like he’s been saying it all his life, like it’s ingrained in him as much as his hair colour or his fingerprints. Felix says it, and it’s a fact.

A fact.

A  _fact_  that the boy standing in front of him isn’t a boy at all. He’s a wolf.

"You don’t," Henry ventures. "You don’t  _look_  particularly furry.”

Felix chuckles, but there’s still an edge of tension running through it. “We’re human, most of the time. Human looking, at any rate. We can change at will.”

"Will you show me?" Henry doesn’t even mean the words to come out of his mouth, but they hang there all the same.

Felix cocks his head, but it’s not Felix. It’s a large, golden-haired, wolf. The dawn light dapples across its fur as it shakes its head, sits, and when it blinks up at Henry, it’s Felix’s eyes looking back at him.

“ _Oh_.”

Henry doesn’t have words. Everything that’s been upsetting him, everything that’s been making his hands shake, his heart pound, disappears as Felix pads closer to him, snuffles at his hand, and Henry buries his hand into the golden ruff, feels the soft fur there and marvels.

The magic from last night…it was nothing like this.

This feels  _good_ , safe. This feels like coming home to a fire and family surrounding you, feels like the safety of surrounding trees and far-off bird calls.

Then the wolf is gone, and Felix is standing before him again, Henry’s hand now resting at the nape of his neck, fingers buried in the strands of hair there. Henry blushes fiercely and pulls back, clutching at his hand with his other, so he doesn’t do something stupid like tangle both in the soft mess of Felix’s hair.

"Are you okay?" Felix asks, again, voice even quieter now, and for a second, all Henry can think is  _yes_.

Then he remembers.

"I  _have_  to go after them,” He says, moving to pick up the saddle he threw earlier. His hands aren’t shaking anymore, not after the feeling of Felix beneath them.

"It’s too dangerous," Felix argues, doesn’t try to physically stop him. "You know your brothers will be fine. They’ll talk themselves out of it, they always do, and they’ll be back in the morning."

"How do you know? You live in the woods!" Henry says, a little snippily, hiding some of the embarrassment at his reaction of Felix’s change in the testy tone of voice.

Felix’s voice is patient. Amused, even. “Yes, but the stories of The Brothers Grimm are well known amongst the town, especially the children. My sisters heard them, back when they still had friends to play with.” The amusement dies out of his voice. “If you go, the town might be losing their only chance at saving their girls.”

Henry stops, the breath  _whoosh_ ing out of him.

He watched one little girl be taken tonight. He can’t let another go without at least  _trying_  to do something. Will wouldn’t do it. Jake either. So Henry can’t.

His hands drop to his sides.

"Get some sleep," Felix tells him, hears what he’s saying without him having to say it. He’s staying. A hand presses to his hip, comforting. "Your brothers will be here in the morning. I promise."

It’s not a promise he can keep, but he makes it anyway.

"Will you- Will you stay? With me?" Henry asks, too exhausted, too strung out, to care. "Please?"

Felix is silent for a long moment then, “Alright.”

They leave the stables together.

When Henry wakes up the next morning to his brothers, Felix is gone.

 

***

 

"You cannot be serious!"

Felix’s voice is a hiss from behind him, and Henry whirls, drops the ropes and hook in surprise at seeing Felix again. Though, he supposes he shouldn’t be. They are Felix’s forests, after all.

Felix isn’t done, prowls out of the tree line to stand in the day light, and it’s the first time Henry has seen him in such bright light, not dappled with leaves or the early morning touch of dawn. “You cannot mean to go  _up_  there.”

Henry’s mouth tightens into a line, pushing back the fear Felix’s words threaten to rise in him again. “I’m the youngest, the lightest. They’ll lift me easier.”

"They’ll  _lose_  you easier,” Felix snaps. “Henry, you don’t know what’s up there.”

"Of course I do," Henry says, picking up his rope and hook again. "A witch."

"You’ve never met a witch like this before."

Henry barely keeps back his laughter, bitter. No, not bitter. Scared. He’s never met a witch before. Full stop. But how different from the lore can they be?

"I’ll be fine," He says, shrugging off the hand Felix puts on his shoulder with reluctance. He wants to turn into it, bury his face in Felix’s chest, like he did last night. Only he can’t. Not here, not now, not without the excuse of utter exhaustion behind it. He needs to be brave here, where he wasn’t last night.

"Henry, in all the years my family have lived in this forest, we’ve avoided the Tower. And with good reason!"

"Well then maybe that’s why your sisters are safe, while every one else loses theirs," Henry says, and his words are cruel, he knows, in the only way he knows how to make them when he’s scared, when he’s pushing people away. He learnt it from Will, after all. His voice shakes. "Not because you’re  _dangerous_. But none of you do anything, leave the witch well enough alone.”

Felix drops his hand, recoils a little, and Henry uses the opportunity to walk away. He can’t let Felix talk him out of this. He needs to do this, needs to see. Jacob needs him to. The  _girls_  need him to.

"You’re scared," Felix says, and he’s following him, out of the privacy of the tree line and into the Tower’s clearing. "You’re  _terrified_ , you wouldn’t be saying this otherwise.”

"Of course I’m terrified!" Henry turns back, and his voice is high, too high, trembling. "But I can’t let it stop me, not when-" Not when little girls are being taken from their beds, just like their sister was taken from them.

"Who on  _earth_  are you?” Will’s voice, brash and  _Will_ , breaks through their staring contest, Felix’s eyes pleading with him, Henry’s stubborn. Or, at least, he hopes. He has a feeling that he looks just as scared as he feels.

"No one," Felix answers him shortly, not looking away from Henry’s face. He steps forward, one hand taking Henry’s, the other pressing to his neck, and Henry can’t help but lean into it. "Henry,  _please_.”

"Felix, I have to."

"You were so scared last night," Felix’s voice is low again, quiet enough that Will and Jake won’t be able to hear him, even if Henry can feel their concerned and confused stares from across the clearing, and it reminds him of last night all over again. Felix’s hushed voice soothing him into sleep. The way he’d woken up, shaking, only to find Felix’s hands at his back, his body at his side, lips at his hair. "Henry, don’t let your guilt make you do something stupid. Don’t kill yourself for this."

"Why do you  _care_?” Henry asks, because he doesn’t know, he  _doesn’t_. 

"I don’t know why," Felix says, and Henry hiccups a laugh. What a pair they make. "I just know that I do. I don’t want you to die, Henry." His thumb strokes at Henry’s neck, unconscious almost. "Please don’t go up into that tower."

"Maybe he’s right," Comes from behind them, and Jake’s come closer, close enough to hear. Felix’s eyes flick upwards, away from Henry’s face, turn flinty and closed off. He drops the hand at Henry’s neck, steps away. Retreating. Henry wants to step after him, make him come back to him, even if he’s still only a foot away. "Whoever  _he_ is. Henry, this is the real thing,” He says, and Henry sees confusion flit across Felix’s face before it disappears behind the stone mask once again.

"And it’s hurting girls."

"It’ll be hurting girls whether you go up into that tower or not," Jake says, and for once his hands are still, his body not jittering about. "This is mine to prove. I’m going up," And he takes the ropes from Henry’s arms, ignoring Henry’s protests.

"Thank you," Felix is still looking off to the side, but his words are meant for Jake, soft. Grateful.

Jake hurrumphs slightly, shifts the ropes to one arm and he holds out a hand to Felix. “I… _suppose_ it’ll be a comfort to know that Henry’s got someone looking out for him. Whatever happens. And whoever you are.”

Felix’s eyes come back to Henry’s face, settle there even as he takes Jake’s hand, shakes it almost absently. There’s a ferocity there, burning, and it alights something in Henry’s stomach. Two somethings, but he only focuses on one; Anger.

"You aren’t going to stop him?" He demands, as Jake moves away, turning his back pointedly. Will’s still staring from across the clearing.

"Would it do any good?" Felix directs it to Jake’s shoulder, which shrugs.

"Probably not."

Henry wants to scream.

He wants to fall to the ground in relief that he’s not going up into that tower.

He really wants to hit Felix.

He mainly wants to tug him down and bite at his lips, wrap his legs around his hips and push him into a tree, the ground. But he’s pretty sure that’d be mixed messages what with how angry he still feels. Also he’s not sure how well that’d go down with Felix. Or his brothers.

He breathes in deeply, trying to clear the angry fog out of his head. “I’m not a child,” He says when his voice is steady. “I don’t appreciate being treated like one.”

The look on Felix’s face is conflicted. ”I know.” He steps close again, hesitant, like he’s not sure he’s still allowed. “And I’m sorry. I just-” He breaks off, either he can’t find the words or doesn’t think they’ll do. Henry’s not sure whether they will either.

A part of him knows, even if it doesn’t understand, that Felix isn’t trying to control him, is trying to help him. Another part of him knows that Jake would never have let him go up there anyway, would have to be the one to know, for definite, for himself. It’s just

He doesn’t like it, feeling like people think he can’t  _do_  something, that he can’t help.

Felix’s hand finds his shoulder again, light, ready to be shrugged off it if Henry wishes. Henry stays still under it, and it’s wordless permission for Felix to move his hand back to his neck, almost like he’s holding on, fingers at Henry’s nape.

Henry met Felix yesterday, shouldn’t be so affected by this, by him. And yet

And yet when Felix ducks his head, drawing back just an inch from Henry’s lips, waiting, Henry presses forward, anger and adrenaline, but it soothes under Felix’s kiss, under the way Felix’s hand slides into his hair, the grip he has on his hip, pulling him closer.

Henry wanted to bite and be bitten, bleed, anything to forget about the terror in his chest, but now he lets Felix kiss him gentle, soft, like Henry’s precious and good. And maybe there’s a flash of teeth, nipping at Henry’s bottom lip, but it’s followed by Felix’s tongue, the taste of his breath, and Henry can’t find any trace of his anger left in him.

His hands find Felix’s shirt, fingers twisting in the material of his jacket, and Felix is still kissing him, over and over, pulling back the barest millimetre to breath before he’s pressing back in again, like Henry’s intoxicating, necessary.

They break apart, breathing heavily, and Henry’s brothers are definitely still in the clearing, but Henry couldn’t care less. “So,” He says, breathy. “You ‘just’, huh?”

Felix smiles a little, and his lips are pinkened, wet. Henry did that. “I just,” He ducks his head a little, as if suddenly shy, looks at Henry with a heat that’s  _searing_. “Is that okay?”

Henry nods, and he really wants to be kissing Felix again, but he’s becoming more and more aware of his brothers’ voices, muttering between themselves, and knows he has about five seconds before Will makes his opinions known.

"Yes. It’s okay," He says, quiet but firm, because he’s barely known Felix for more than a day, but he’s already saved him from losing himself in the ever-changing forest, held him back from running to his death, stayed with him when Henry needed him, and talked him out of doing something stupid, even if he couldn’t talk out Jake.

Felix’s smile grows. “Good,” He says, which is all he gets out before Will’s voice calls.

"Henry, we need you!"

"Are you staying?" Henry asks, but Felix shakes his head, shooting the Tower a wary glance.

"My family are getting nervous. She hasn’t come for my sisters yet, but who knows how desperate she is. Especially with you poking around her tower." Henry makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Felix looks back at him. "I’m not blaming you, Henry. I just have to make sure my sisters are safe."

And with a kiss to Henry’s forehead, Felix goes. A howl strikes up a few seconds after he disappears through the tree-line. A goodbye.

Henry smiles and goes to Will.

"So," Will says when he gets there, starts securing the buckles on Jake’s straps. "While we were getting  _tortured_ , you were getting lucky,” Will’s voice is a strange mix of affronted, amused, and the horrifying realisation that Henry’s not fourteen anymore.

"Please, you were  _tied up_ ,” Henry scoffs, because they’ve told him what happened.

“ _You_  didn’t know that,” Will counters, and Henry laughs.

 

***

 

Smoke burns in Henry’s lungs, clawing down his throat, dragging across his tongue, and any moisture he had in his mouth is gone, gone, gone.

He can’t breathe, can’t  _think_ with the rush of smoke filling him up, with the crackling of the flames close enough that they’re louder than his own heartbeat, thundering in his veins, his ears.

He’s going to die.

He’s going to die tied to a stake and set ablaze, along with the entire forest. The ice of terror in his chest from the moment he heard Delatombe’s order, the fear for Felix, his family living in the trees, unaware of the plans to set the entire thing alight, is melting as his vision blurs, his head spins.

He’s going to die, and he’s finding it hard to think of anything other than how  _warm_  it is.

Either side of him, he can hear Will and Jake calling his name, frantic, interspersed with each other’s, and they’ve always been so  _good_  to Henry. Even living the life they do, town to town, con to con, Will and Jake have always looked after him, always made sure he had enough to eat, a place to sleep. He thinks some of it’s left over guilt, from their sister’s death, but mostly it’s how much his brothers love him.

He wants to tell them it’s okay, that they looked after him more than anyone ever could, but the smoke is curling in his throat and all he can get out are weak, hacking coughs, even as his eyes shut, his head falls back against the stake that’s burning hot beneath him.

A howl splits the air, through the crackle, and Henry smiles, recognising the sound, but then

No.

It’s too close.

He opens his eyes, and Felix is the first thing he sees, leaping over a fallen, still burning, tree, paws skittering across the steaming ground, and no, Felix shouldn’t be here. Felix should be getting out of the forest, out with his family, his sisters. Felix…

Felix is  _here_ , coming closer to Henry with every bound, teeth bared as he runs, fur blurring with speed as he dodges flames and trees that are still moving, that are _screaming_ , even as they burn.

Henry tries to call out to him, tell him to leave, to not hurt himself in this attempt to save Henry, because Henry can see the sparks jumping onto Felix’s fur, can imagine the blistering of his paws on the burning ground, but he can’t find the breath to do it with.

He blinks, and it takes every effort he has in his body to open his eyes again, muscles growing heavier, mind growing darker, more full with smoke. There’s a sharpness by his ankles, biting, and it’s Felix at his ropes, slicing through them like butter with long white teeth that slide against Henry’s boots in the pull, nicking the flesh beneath.

His feet free, Felix circles, and Henry loses him in the smoke. He’d doubt he was even here at all, a figment of Henry’s dying brain, if he couldn’t move his feet, couldn’t feel the warm trickle of his own blood in his boots.

Something moves in the flames, dark and bent low, and Henry’s mind pings with  _Wolf_ before he recognises Angelika in the haze of smoke, the glint of her axe.

A sharpness nips at his wrists, cutting them, and he cries out at the sudden pain before realising his hands are free too, ropes slack and falling away.

He falls, falls forward, to his hands and knees, tremors shudder up the bones of his arms, elbows buckling.

He can hear his brothers shouting him, telling him to run, to leave them, but he can barely get his arms under himself, no strength left in them. Weak. He can hear them shouting for Angelika, telling her to take him, to go, and is so stupidly grateful when she ignores them, strides past Henry and starts swinging her axe at their ropes.

It’s about time someone started looking after them.

Something wet snuffles at his face, insistent, nudging him hard, and it’s soft and nice and Henry finds the strength to lift one hand, clutch at it. He’s only barely aware of a warmth burrowing under his chest, pushing him up, up, until he’s mostly draped across the nice and soft thing. He feet move without him telling them to, and there’s still such a _heat_  raging around him that even the corners of his mind are warm, mushy.

Then the heat scorches, and Henry remembers.

He bolts upright, legs nearly buckling beneath him, head spinning, coughing. His brothers, where are his brothers he can’t  _see_  them anymore, can’t see anything but the trees, the fire. Felix.

"Will!" He cries, voice hoarse. "Jake!"

He stumbles away, searching, only to find himself facing down Felix. Felix who’s pushing at him, herding him, away from the stakes that were meant to be the Grimm graves, further into the still burning woods.

"My brothers!" He pleads, tries to push forward, only

Only he can’t remember which direction they came from. Can’t hear his brothers’ voices. Can only see the fire, raging.

He’s lost them.

A loud creaking noise alerts him just in time to dodge a large falling oak, ablaze and roaring, and Felix butts at him, teeth nipping his fingertips, and Henry

Follows.

Turns his back and follows Felix. He’s hacking and choking on smoke, he trips more times than he doesn’t, and he’s not sure whether or not he’s imagining the world getting a little less warm, when a sudden gust whistles through the forest, bowling Henry over, and extinguishing the fire completely.

The hush that falls afterwards is deafening. Ash falls from the sky like snow, gets in Henry’s eyes as he lies motionless on the still hot forest ground. Hands find him, pull him up, and it’s Felix, Felix as a boy, face worried and frantic as Henry coughs and coughs and coughs.

He lets Felix lead him to a small pool, and it’s still cold, the fire’s heat never touching it. Felix cups his hands and scoops up some water, bringing it silently to Henry’s chapped lips, and Henry gulps at it greedily, the icy burn slicing slick through the smoke in his chest, until he coughs again, coughs it up, and has to turn away to throw up the contents of his stomach.

He nearly  _died_. Henry almost died today.

Felix’s hand rubs soothing circles into his back, voice low and gentle as he says, “Angelika got your brothers free. I saw it.”

Henry shudders.

"Here," Felix brings another handful of water to Henry’s mouth once he’s spat everything out. "Drink slower."

Henry does, eyes locked with Felix’s. He’s never seen Felix look so scared before.

"Your family, did they-"

"They got out," Felix says when Henry’s croaky voice fails him. "I doubled back, looking for you. I’m glad I did."

Henry laughs once and it scrapes in his chest. “Me too.”

Felix laughs, weak, and lean forward, presses a fierce kiss to Henry’s forehead, hand at his nape. He can feel Felix trembling. He closes his eyes, wraps his arms around Felix’s back and clutches at him, presses his face into Felix’s neck.

"What was that?" Henry asks, muffled, already knows the answer before Felix says it.

"Her." Felix’s voice is scare a whisper, and the whole forest drops silent, as if eavesdropping on them. Henry jumps at a crack behind him, but Felix doesn’t move.

Everything happened so  _quickly_ , from the moment Jake fell through the Tower window. With Sasha, with the man-wolf who seemed so different from Felix, so dangerous, Will and Henry dodging his axe, shouting for Jake, Will hauling up the young girl and the three of them running, so much running, until they broke the trees and she still wasn’t breathing, even after walking. Henry saw it.

Delatombe and his men, dragging them to the trees, Henry fighting to get free, struggling,  _had to warn Felix!  
_

Except Felix knew, in the way he does, like the forest speaks to him behind the witch’s back, and he’s safe, his family are safe, Henry’s safe, Will, Jake and Angelika are safe.

Henry’s shaking against Felix’s chest, and Felix cups his hands around his, holding them steady. Henry frowns, flipping their hands, and he makes a small cry in the back of his throat when he sees the state of Felix’s palms. They’ve blistered, angry white, and Henry’s willing to bet that his feet are the same, if not worse.

"It’s alright," Felix’s murmurs into his hair, kissing at him. "I’m fine."

"You’re  _hurt_ ,” Henry argues, holding Felix’s hands in his like they’re something precious.

"I’ll heal," Felix promises, and lifts his hands away, cups Henry’s face in them. His thumbs sweep across Henry’s cheeks. There’s no sign on his soot-streaked face of any discomfort, but Henry’s not sure Felix would let there be.

It’s a moment of peace, broken by gun shots, far off in the distant, but echoing back from  every corner, as if the forest wants them to hear, wants to feel the way Henry’s chest fills up with panic, dread. 

“ _My brothers_.”

They run. Henry’s chest tightens, as though his ribs are squeezing him, squeezing around his heart. He can barely breathe through it, and his head starts spinning from lack of oxygen, but he keeps his feet moving, pounding on the forest floor, lets Felix pull him over roots and fallen trees, over ponds and through valleys, the forest floor stretching out for what feels like miles.

Henry breaks through the tree line just as the tower falls.

 

***

 

Epilogue

 

The girls of the town are safe.

They’re safe, saved, returned to their families and dancing in the sunshine, arms linked, laughing in that little girl way, as if there was no danger in the first place. Felix’s sisters are out there too, braiding flowers into each other’s hair and giggling, happy for the first time in months, their friends safe, their lives no longer in danger.

The three brothers Grimm are in amongst the crowd, Jake dancing to himself, Will pressed up against a stablegirl, but it’s Henry that Felix’s eyes find from where he’s standing at the entrance to the town, hidden in the archway shadows. Henry’s got a small blonde girl on his feet, waltzing her around like she’s air, and she looks up at him, utterly enamoured. Felix can’t blame her.

He met Henry two days ago, that’s it, and already he’s feeling the tug in his chest towards him, wants to go to him, take his hand, pull him close. He wants to kiss him again, wants to take him home to meet his family, wants to see how he’d get on with his sisters. They’d love him, Felix is sure, just as Felix does.

Instead, he lurks in the darkness of the archway, watching, turning Henry’s words over in his mind.

Everything last night had happened so fast, and Felix doesn’t think he’ll ever get the anguished howl Henry made, hunched over his brother’s body, out of his head. It’s still in there now, echoing. And Felix had felt the pull of the moon shifting away from him, the chance to break the curse ending, felt the zing of success rocket through him when Jake had bent over Angelika, kissed her awake. He can barely follow the series of last nights events, but he can remember the happy sob Henry had released when Will awoke, breathing, remember the feeling of a little girl’s hand in his, one of his sister’s friends, as he led them out of the forests, looking back to see Henry under his brother’s arm, eyes closed and so relieved.

It wasn’t until they got the girls back to the town that Henry’d pulled him to one side. They no longer had the cover of the trees to meet in, but Henry didn’t seem to care as he took Felix’s hands, pressed close and kissed him like he was dying, like Felix was air, mouth desperate and frantic, adrenaline thumping through them both until they started to crash, Henry holding onto Felix and resting against him, eyes closed. Heartbeat slowing.

Felix had closed his eyes, too, let himself have this. For god knows how much longer.

Then Henry had spoken. “We’re not really experts of the supernatural,” He admitted, quiet,  _ashamed_ , and Felix had cocked his head, frowning. “I mean, I believed, and I’m always sure that on some level, so did Jake, but we’re conmen. I’m…I’m not proud of it, but it’s kept us alive all these years, and brought me here, so I can’t say I regret it.”

"Why-"  _Why are you telling me?_  Felix wanted to ask, but Henry didn’t let him, already speaking again.

"We’ll be leaving, soon. Will already has about ten new business ideas in light of the discovery that everything that goes bump in the night is  _real_.”

His weak chuckle had ghosted out across Felix’s neck, as if unaware of the knife he’d slid into Felix’s ribs. Conman or not, Henry’s…Felix doesn’t want Henry to go.

Then he’d pulled back, looked Felix in the eyes. “You could come with us? If you want? I really- I know you have your family, your Pack, but I don’t- I don’t want to leave you.”

His voice was soft, honest.  _Hopeful_.

And then Henry had gone, pulled back into the celebrations with quiet “Please think about it.”

Felix still hasn’t moved from where Henry left him, mind whirring.

A hand finds a hold in the scruff of his hair, and he closes his eyes as he recognises  _alpha_ , turns into the arm his mother wraps around him, lets her scent at him, through the smell of burning. She tuts at the burns, almost healed, on his palms, and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“ _C_ _ara mia_ , what are we going to do with you?” She says, voice low velvet and the feeling of moss underfoot, fur and warmth around him, Pack.

He opens his mouth to apologise, for running off, for ignoring her frantic calls after him, but she shushes him before he can. “He’s something special, is he?” She asks, and Felix turns out of her embrace to find Henry once again. He’s sitting with Will, stablegirl abandoned, and Jake, the three of them watching the town they saved.

He can hear the uptick in his own heart when Henry laughs, face lit up like sunshine, and knows his mother heard it too.

"Oh, Felix," She cups his face in her hands, kisses him on the forehead then rests her own against his. "You’ve spent too long in the woods, my love."

"He wants me to go with him," He says, closing his eyes and letting the presence of his alpha wash over him, letting his mother look after him. "I don’t- I…"

"You want to go."

Felix doesn’t answer.

"If you want to go, darling,  _go,”_ She says to him, pulling back, face serious and soft, warm, and Felix opens his eyes.

"But, the Pack-"

"If you think Pack is so easily severed, my darling, I haven’t been teaching you anything." Her eyes, so similar to his, are loving. A little sad. "You can always visit. I hear the Brothers Grimm travel an awful lot." She smiles, still sad, and but it sings in his chest.

The possibility of it, of going with Henry, seeing a world outside of the forest that’s his home. The chance to chase Henry’s lips and press him into thin mattresses in wayside inns, learn the books he likes to read, the way he looks when he sleeps, what he likes to eat. The idea of feeling Henry’s hands in his fur, of protecting him when he does something so monumentally stupid and a little bit brave.

Felix wants it. Wants Henry. Wants to try.

It must show on his face, but maybe his mother just knows him that well, because she smiles. Her thumbs stroke his cheeks. "If you choose this, it will be difficult, yes. At full moons you will call to be with us again, run with us again."

His sisters. Felix will have to leave them behind. Not see Luna’s mischievous smile hidden behind dirty blonde hair when she wakes him up in the morning, have to go without Selene coming to find him when she has a nightmare, curling up against his chest. His brothers, he won’t be able to run with them. Won’t be able to howl with his mother, or sit under her hands as she attempts to untangle his hair.

"But is he worth it?" She asks, and Felix feels it sure in his chest that Henry, completely, unquestionably,  _is_. “There you are, then.”

Felix turns into the hand his mother still has at his cheek, and he thinks that above all, he will miss this. Miss her.

She wraps him in a fierce hug, tight, like she never wants to let him go, and Felix clings back just as tight. “I’m so proud of everything you are,” She says, presses a hard kiss into his hair, and with a final touch to his cheek, a final look at him, she sweeps away, regal, and she stands tall as a queen as she joins the celebration, scoops up his sisters and dances with bare feet in the sunlight.

Felix breathes, can feel Henry’s eyes on him the way he knows the sky is blue, the witch is dead, and that everything is going to be okay.

He goes to join him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask why Felix's mother is partially Italian. She just is.
> 
> All feedback welcomed! Even for ridiculously indulgent fic such as this!
> 
> Cannot believe I wrote 7k of this.


End file.
